parents speak to child

Affirming Black Books That Will Elevate Your Children’s Minds

“Black representation matters when it pertains to the literature that our Black children are exposed to. 

Here are 7 Black children’s books that elevate our children.

In “Africa Dream” a little African-American girl falls asleep and dreams of ancient Africa. The book teaches children the importance of Sankofa. Sankofa is a symbol from the  Asante people of West Africa that represents reflecting on the past to build a successful future.

This book uses the metaphor of a blackbird to illustrate the beauty that Black people possess even in the midst of envy and jealousy expressed by those who do not look like them.

This story was adapted from the fairy tale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.” Rev. Knight’s twelve sons stay up all night dancing while their father is unaware of their actions. On a deeper level, this story speaks to parent-child communication.

The author uses her childhood story to tell an empowering narrative explaining how important Black people were and still are in America.

“My Man Blue” is a compilation of poems that tell the story of Damon’s need for a positive Black male role model in his life. With Blue’s mentorship, Damon believes that he can accomplish almost anything.

This story shows the joy and sleepless nights of parenting through the endearing expressions of a toddler not prepared to go to bed. 

This book celebrates the variety of Black children by comparing their skin, eyes, and hair to positive everyday images as a simple celebration of Black children’s identity.


I am glad to see so many wonderful books for Black children, that could help them to become kind, smart, and worthy persons! Because our kids raise in the “all-white world of children’s literature.” And this problem is real. We need to know much more about our history, our culture, our people…

We are forced to read about the history of Caucasians but not encouraged to seek out our own.



This Is Us: 1x09 vs 1x15 - Jack reassuring Randall

When abusive parents tell you to be silent about something, that’s the time to speak the most. The caveat being, of course, if the parent is physically abusive and speaking will put you in physical danger. In that case, it’s important to speak, but not to the abusive parent. At that point, you need to speak to a safe authority figure like a teacher or counselor.

Artwork: positivedoodles

please ask to tag if I miss anything and don’t use reblogs to interact!
trigger warnings: child abuse, child endangerment, parents mention, substance use, venting, trauma talk, long post.

I’m learning slowly just how abused I was growing up. through going to public school and trying (but failing) to socialize I quickly learned what went on in my family wasn’t normal. unfortunately, I was ashamed and tried to hide it rather than seeking help. now, though, it surprises me how random, simple things will make me go “oh.. that wasn’t normal.”

like just a minute ago I found this picture (I reblogged it) with a very gross lung. for some reason it triggered memories of all the breathing issues I had as a child, that I still have to this day. it’s all black and goopy, like how my lungs are black and deformed for constant exposure to cigarette smoke.

but it was wild how a cute little gif of a gorey lung triggered me. I started thinking and realized a parent offering you cigarettes at the age of six wasn’t normal. that them buying packs of cigarettes for an eleven year old wasn’t normal. that smoking during pregnancy and while breastfeeding wasn’t normal.

my mom would smoke while breastfeeding me. she never went outside to smoke until my brother was born. and it wasn’t just cigarettes. this was normal behavior to me until they put me in public school.

and it caused a lot of problems for me that I didn’t know were related until I learned what secondhand smoking does.

I have a very hard time breathing, like it feels like I can never take a full breath. any kind of physical exertion is nearly impossible because I have little attacks that were mistaken for asthma when I was a kid. I have problems breathing when I sleep, which in turn contributes to my insomnia. I wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe because I rolled over on my stomach and couldn’t get a full breath.

it’s disgusting that my mother did this to me. she caused me so much pain because she couldn’t be bothered to step outside to smoke. she couldn’t be bothered to take responsibility and consider my safety. and my dad did nothing about it.

it’s disgusting how they didn’t care about me. I quit smoking the day I found out I was pregnant. I never smoked anywhere near the baby and if I had been able to breastfeeding I wouldn’t have ever smoked again until she was too old to breastfeed. I only smoked because of Vanna, but I set ground rules. she has since quit though so we’ve all officially quit.

realizing all this at four in the morning after getting nearly no sleep sucks. now I’m thinking about all of the other ways my parents traumatized me.. ugh.

  • Baby: M-M-M
  • Parent: Oh honey, I think our child is trying to speak!
  • Baby: M-M-M
  • Parent: Mama? Are you trying to say Mama? Say Mama!
  • Baby: M-M-Moriarty was a real piece of shit for the way he treated Gob. He might have been a ghoul, he might have looked and sounded different than everyone else, but Gob had feelings too. He never did anything wrong. There was no reason that he should have been treated so poorly. I always shot Moriarty in all of my playthroughs just to spare Gob further abuse. Fuck Colin Moriarty quite honestly.

anonymous asked:

Thank you for your info on Autism Speaks. What a vile group. As a person with Asperger it's highly offensive, annoying and rude of them! (Heck, even as a person without Aspergers it would be offensive on others behalf!)

No problem at all :) I’m particularly glad you approve given your personal lived experience. I always try to listen and learn from people who have real experience and base my perspective on what they tell me. While I have a personal connection to autism, I haven’t got the condition myself and I haven’t been a parent to a child who does either so I can only speak as an outsider. But Autism Speaks has huge opposition within the community and that’s something I have to listen to and respect. 


My father had Narcissistic personality disorder. I want to pass this knowledge onto those who were also told “this isn’t abuse” and don’t know what to call this. Don’t know how to describe it. This changed my life.

Some parents want to see their children succeed. Narcissistic parents will tend to live through their child. Wanting them to do the things that their parents never did or wanted to do. Maybe even things they DID do just to live through their child.
“You have opportunities I’ve never had…After you go to college, do whatever you want. Until then? You do what I say!”

Some narcissistic parents are threatened by their child’s potential, promise, and success as they challenge that parent’s self esteem. So they may make a concerted effort to “push the child down” so to speak, so the parent remains superior. marginalization includes nit-picking, unreasonable judgment and criticisms, unfavorable comparisons, invalidation of positive attitudes and emotions, and rejection of success and accomplishments.
“There’s always something wrong with you.”
“You’ll never be good enough.”
“You’re a little too fat to be an actress.”

Many narcissistic parents have a falsely inflated self-image, with a conceited sense about who they are and what they do. Often, individuals around the narcissist are not treated as human beings, but merely tools (objects) to be used for personal gain. Some children of narcissistic parents are objectified in the same manner. In other words, treating them like they are less than human.
“You’re MY kid, and you’ll do as I say”
“You’re just a kid, I’m way smarter than you.”
“Are you retarded?”

Closely related to grandiosity, many narcissistic parents love to show others how “special” they are. They enjoy publically parading what they consider their superior dispositions, be it material possessions, physical appearance, projects and accomplishments, background and membership, contacts in high places, and/or trophy spouse and offspring. (My father’s wife was 10 years younger than him) They go out of their way to seek ego-boosting attention and flattery. They may act nice in public with their kids and then treat them badly at home.

-MANIPULATION(this is a HUGE one):
Narcissists will do this:

Guilt trip: “I’ve done everything for you, and you’re ungrateful”

Blame: “it’s your fault that you’re/I’m not happy”

Shame: “you’re depression and anxiety make you an embarrassment to me”

Negative comparison: “why can’t you be as good as ______?”

Unreasonable pressure: “you WILL get a good report card by the end of the year to make me happy”

Manipulative Reward and punishment: “if you go into music and not college, I’m not going to fund you and I’m cutting off your college fund”

Emotional coercion: “you’re a terrible daughter/son”

Certain narcissistic parents are highly rigid when it comes to the expected behaviors of their children. They regulate their offspring on minor details, and can become upset when there’s deviation. Some narcissistic parents are also touchy and easily triggered. Reasons for irritation towards an offspring can vary greatly, from the child’s lack of attention and obedience, to perceived faults and shortcomings, to being in the presence of the parent at the wrong time. A huge reason for this is because Narcissists like to control the child.
“I HATE it when you don’t spend time with me. I HATE it!!”

One of the most common manifestations of a narcissistic father or mother is the inability to be mindful of the child’s own thoughts and feelings, and validate them as real and important. Only what the parent thinks and feels matters.
“Hey dad? I have to talk to you about this girl who is bullying me, and I need some support”
“Maybe if you didn’t dress weirdly, nobody would bully you”

Some narcissistic parents will depend on their children to take care of them for the rest of their lives. This dependency can be emotionally, physically, or financially. While this may be admirable to some degree? Narcissists will MANIPULATE their children into making unreasonable sacrifices.

a narcissistic mother or father often hopes that the child will permanently dwell under the parent’s influence, she or he may become extremely jealous at any signs of the child’s growing maturity and independence. Any perceived act of individuation and separation, from choosing one’s own academic and career path, to making friends not approved by the parent, to spending time on one’s own priorities, are interpreted negatively and personally “Why are you doing this to ME?”
"Your friends are druggies and I don’t want you hanging out with them unless I meet them and their parents first.”


In some situations, a narcissistic parent may choose to focus primarily on her or his self-absorbing interests, which to the narcissist are more exciting than child-raising. These activities may provide the narcissist the stimulation, validation, and self-importance she or he craves, be it career obsession, social flamboyance, or personal adventures and hobbies. The child is left either to the other parent, or on his or her own.
(When I was a kid, my father was an alcoholic. He used to have parties in the garage and he really didn’t give a shit about raising a kid.)

All of these examples are things MY father said,or did, to me. Because after 2 years of this, I found myself with a mental disorder called CPTSD. Which I explained in my last post.
I hope you all find this useful.

in case anyone was wondering, i’m still broke, still living in an emotionally abusive household, still disabled and therefore unable to get a job while not flunking out of school. i fucking hate doing this but i’m out of options at this point. there’s a donate button on the top of my blog (i’m on mobile so i can’t link it). it has the link to my and the list of what i’ll do for commission (idk if you’d call it a commission but w/e). literally anything is helpful and i’ll be eternally grateful. please reblog this.

just an FYI about my portrayal is that wanda’s past experience with having children was VERY traumatic for her and as a result she would not want to have a child herself again. adoption/surrogacy are the only ways she would be okay with having a child but adoption would be preferable. the ONLY exception to this rule is in regards to @gcdsfavorite‘s steve because we have a History Built and i’m obviously comfortable with that. or @alghul‘s talia bc we already established that if we were to give wanda and talia a baby, talia would carry it.

Having an argument with parents
  • Parents: *yelling at child*
  • Me: *yells back*
  • Parents: DON'T YELL BACK *threatens*
  • Me: *says nothing*
  • Me: *speaks calmly*
  • Parents: *yells over child and doesn't listen to what they have to say*
  • Me: \o/ ?!

Gabriel: Well… don’t try to fight your brother, that’s one thing I’ve learnt. But realistically speaking, it happens even to the best parents that they favour one child over the other, sometimes for the (to their minds) simple reason that they feel one child needs more support than the other. I don’t think your parents hate you, but if they do, they’re shit at being parents and also suck at being decent people.

What you can try to do is talk to them about the situation. Speak plainly about what the situation looks like to you and what it makes you feel like. If they are being assholes about it, maybe your brother can offer support. If not you might have to go further - your wider family for a start. Tell your family adios if nothing changes.

Emma: If I had a brother that father loved more than me I would crush his heart with my bare fists.

Gabriel: I suppose that explains why a centuries old fertility deity only spawned one kid… Your attitude would put a damper on my dick’s performance too.

tip for parents with disabled children: If your child has an “adjusted’ behavior to help them do something better, I don’t care how much you don’t like it, don’t tell them it looks weird or “socially embarrassing” to discourage them from doing it. Just don’t. Jus’t fucking don’t. A disabled person HAS to do things differently from able bodied people in order to function. You don’t get to decide what coping behaviors your child gets to do based on how good it looks to other people. Fuck off.


Mark: You have how many brothers and sisters?

Velvet: I have one brother and four sisters. I’m the eldest of all the kids.

Mark: Holy cow. I can’t imagine having so much family around. It must be nice.

Velvet: It is. Do you have family near by?

Mark: No. My parents and I don’t speak and I’m an only child so I’m sort of on my own.

Velvet: I’m sorry. It must be rough.

Mark: Sometimes. I’d like to have my parents around but they don’t agree with a lot of my choices in life so it’s just better that we don’t talk to one another right now.

Velvet and Mark talked about life in general until it became late in the night.

Just as feminists wince whenever they hear ‘he’ rather than 'he or she’, or 'man’ instead of 'human’, I want everybody to flinch when they hear a phrase such as 'Catholic child’ or 'Muslim child’. Speak of a 'child of Catholic parents’ if you like; but if you hear anybody speak of a 'Catholic child’, stop them and politely point out that the children are too young to know how they stand on such issues, just as they are too young to know where they stand on economics or politics.
—  Richard Dawkins (The God Delusion)


It begins with a memory.

When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city

To see a marching band.

Memories are funny things, clearer when we’re younger and fading the older we grow. Your life happens in chronological order because it must, but that isn’t how we always remember it. “Welcome to the Black Parade” opens with a simple melody, almost lullaby-like, but clearly somber in tone. From the first sound of the piano (a now infamous G5 tone), you know that you are listening to a story. There will be a beginning, a middle, and an end.

He said, “Son, when you grow up,

Would you be the savior of the broken,

The beaten, and the damned?

“Welcome to the Black Parade” is draped in a mythology. This is a father speaking to his child, in the way only a parent can, asking a question he already knows the answer to. He’s leading him to the start of a quest, burdening him from the beginning of his life. This is the burning bush telling Moses to lead the people to the Promised Land; it’s formative and definitive. The legend begins here.

(Image: A thumbnail of conceptual work for The Black Parade.)

He continues on to detail more of what this quest will undertake, but it doesn’t matter. The memory has been formed and the repetition cements it. We can’t possibly remember everything that’s ever happened to us, and there are many memories that never happened at all, but that doesn’t make them any less real. He repeats the setting, and the initial plea for a savior.  This is what sticks with him.

The memory vanishes and the parade swells, and we shift.

Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me,

And other times I feel like I should go.

The frosted nostalgia melts away. The parade is a memory now reality, and the boy is now a man. He reflects on the loss of a woman, likely a maternal figure, that has shaped his life. Everyone knows the story of “Helena,” how Gerard’s grandmother passed and how it sent a man already without brakes careening into the night. I’ve always maintained that “Helena,” for all that is about his grandmother, reads more like an angsty breakup song. It describes a crisis of faith that defines Revenge more than any other: am I doing the right thing? So when our narrator reminds of us of her here, what he’s saying is this crisis is not gone from him, he stills finds himself wanting to leave - whether figuratively or through literal death. Regardless, it isn’t something that he feels he should dwell on, because:

We’ll carry on,

We’ll carry on,

And though you’re dead and gone, believe me

Your memory will carry on.

We’ll carry on,

And in my heart I can’t contain it,

The anthem won’t explain it.

In “The God of Small Things”, Arundhati Roy describes death as “[leaving] behind a Hole in the Universe” through which people could follow. Death does not mean an end, but rather an absence which can not be ignored. The chorus is mostly self-explanatory, and all the more effective for it, but it also depersonalizes the narrative; it shifts the song of a singular hero into the tale of a people. At multiple points in their career, My Chemical Romance have included their audience in the narrative. By depersonalizing, “Welcome to the Black Parade” encompasses three songs: the lullaby; the parade; and the foretold anthem.

(Video: Gerard performing “Cancer” during a show at Maxwell’s in Hoboken. As he reaches the ending lines, he addresses the crowd and thanks them for being in the band.)

So paint it black, and take it back

Let’s shout it loud and clear

Defiant to the end we hear the call

Rather than dying and just giving in, it’s taking over and claiming it. The color black most commonly represents death, but here it’s framed as a point of pride. He proposes, not like a leader would, by commanding, that we shout it loud and clear. That we defy what has been decided for us by being unashamed of who we are, be it broken, beaten, or damned. The chorus is bolstered by the reminder that we are not singular. Even if we are broken and defeated, the rest will march on for you. It’s “You’re not in this alone” in “Skylines” all over again, and the narrator asks us to believe in him because he is no longer afraid. He declares:

Do or die, you’ll never make me

Because the world will never take my heart

Go and try, you’ll never break me

We want it all, we wanna play this part

I won’t explain or say I’m sorry

I’m unashamed, I’m gonna show my scar

Give a cheer for all the broken

Listen here, because it’s who we are

This is the height of defiance, the climax of our song and our story. The instrumentation quiets, and his voice resounds, layered over and over and over. No longer a broken man, but the broken. Not above us, but with us. At this point we have arrived at our anthem, the words we repeat to ourselves so often that it doesn’t matter if they’re true, because repetition is powerful. Truth is subjective; if enough people believe in something it becomes true – thus the power of an anthem. He says, I’m unashamed, I’m gonna show my scar. Scars are by definition unwanted, jagged manifestations of harm. In saying that he’s unashamed of them, the narrator claims them and seizes control of the power they have over him. It doesn’t matter if he truly is unashamed, he’s showing them anyway and claiming their influence. You can choose to avert your eyes, but he isn’t hiding them any more.

I’m just a man, I’m not a hero.

Just a boy, who had to sing this song.

This is the final defiance. He’s responding to the memory of his father from years ago, but the nostalgia has gone. The narrator names himself as that same boy, but rather than call himself a savior, he maintains that he does this only because he has to. His punctuated roar of “I don’t care” is the final rejection of the quest his father gave to him so many years ago. This is not a fairy tale, he is not Moses, or Arthur, or any mythic chosen one. He’s just doing as he must: what it takes to carry on.

(Image: Gerard’s original concept sketch for the Black Parade staging.)

As the song enters its final chorus, the key changes. A key change denotes a rebirth, the song solidifying the developments of previous movements. The boy has actualized his final form. Anthem and Parade weave together, literally stitching together a lifetime. He can be the son, the leader, the people. The story has ended, and the song continues not because he’s a prophetic hero, but because he feels that he must do this, for the people and for himself.

The triumphant voices do not stop but fades past, until only the drumline can be heard. The parade continues along its path, having begun a new song. It carries on.

- Kelly